On the Edge House Call remix
by headrush100
Summary: "On the Edge" is my story "House Call" which was written from Lanie's pov , rewritten from Castle's pov. It was written for the kink meme prompt "Castle is forced to watch Beckett being tortured, hurt/comfort follows." Rated M for themes of torture and abuse that may be triggering. It's not necessary to read "House Call" first, but it may help.


Gunfire, that's gunfire. Slamming doors. Shouting. Running.

Pain. Arms, chest, hands.

Bound to a... chair... that was pushed over backwards. He remembered the impact of huge hands on his chest, remembered falling, remembered the sharp bite of her words to their captors.

iKate./i

He tried to shout her name, but it hurt to breathe. His voice was so weak, and his throat was so sore. iShit. Shit! What have they done with her?/i

He tried again to call her. A violent, seizing pain made everything turn strange colors, and he had to swallow down the vomit that threatened to escape.

i"Here! They're here!"/i

A quick movement in his peripheral vision, and he was looking up into a friendly, concerned face for the first time that day.

"Hey, bro. We got your bat signal."

"Go to Kate!"

"We got her, it's okay."

"You got her?"

"Yeah, the EMTs are with her."

He pulled hard at his bonds. "Get me up, I have to – "

"Castle, keep still, your wrists – "

"But I have to – " He was gasping for breath. It hurt like hell, but he couldn't get enough air. He had to make sure she was... well, as good as she could be, that she knew he was okay.

"I know, I know." Esposito's hand smoothed over his forehead as though he were a little child. "But Beckett's being looked after, and we have to wait for the EMTs to check for spinal injuries before we can start moving you."

He heard a gurney lock into position, and was finally able to see Kate. She was already being wheeled towards the exit, an oxygen mask on her face. She was conscious and fighting the EMTs as they tried to get her to lie down. He thought he heard her shout his name.

He tried to shout to them, to her, but his voice was so weak. They shouldn't be doing that; they didn't know what she'd been through. Esposito held onto his good knee, keeping him from falling over sideways in the chair.

One of the EMTs looked back towards him and said something to her. They pushed her down and buckled restraints across her chest. When she continued to struggle, they gave her an injection. She fell back, and didn't rise again.

Suddenly he realized that Esposito had draped his jacket over his lap, and remembered something else.

Cold sweat broke out on his face, and Esposito looked down at him in concern.

"Mr. Castle, I've told you, you icannot/i see her right now. Wait here, and we'll get an attending out to see you as soon as possible." The doctor spoke with a detached offhandedness that suggested this wouldn't be anytime soon.

Heat flooded his face. "And iI've/i told iyou/i, you don't know what she's been through. You don't know what this could do to her. I ineed/i to be with her. I'm the only one who –"

Patience clearly exhausted, the doctor made a dismissive gesture and headed for the doors marked 'No Admittance'.

His brain disengaged completely. i"Don't you walk away from me."/i

The doctor turned on his heel. "Mr. Castle, you need to sit down. Right there. And wait."

This wasn't over.

As he started forward, Esposito moved in front of him and put his hands on his chest. "Stop. You're gonna get kicked out of here, and that won't do Beckett any good, either."

The doctor seized his opportunity to beat a retreat, and disappeared through the doors.

He flinched in pain at the pressure on his wounds, and the detective dropped his hands, now very unpleasantly coated in blood and vomit.

"Sorry." Esposito looked sympathetic, but resigned. "C'mon. Let's sit down."

He looked around. The other people in the waiting room were staring at his stinking shirt, at ihim/i. A woman picked up her toddler and moved to the other side of the room. Receptionists were giving him the evil eye. If that was how they were here, he wasn't going to wait around for some moron to give him an exam he didn't want.

He tried to speak, but only a croak came out. He cleared his throat, waited for the ripping pain to subside, swallowed, and tried again. "Where are the taxis?"

Esposito tried to guide him to a seat, wilfully obtuse. "When it's your turn, we'll ask 'em for a wheelchair."

"We're leaving."

He endured the ride home in silence. One minute he was burning up, the next, freezing. At some point, he began to shake uncontrollably. He stank of blood and vomit. Esposito merely cranked the window down and occasionally glanced over at him. He felt like hell, but he was okay. He hadn't suffered like Kate. He had to get back to her, but if he went now, they'd want to run tests there was no way he was having, thanks to Esposito's detailed description of his appearance when he was rescued. He shifted in his seat, but the new position brought no ease. Thank God they were almost home.

That morning, everything had been normal. Just like any other day. Now, he wasn't sure how, or if, he would ever walk out the door feeling the same way again. You never knew what would happen when you went out in the world. Only once did he have to get Esposito to pull over so that he could throw up in the gutter. He tried to walk through the lobby under his own power, but the detective insisted on supporting him. By the time they were halfway to the elevator, he was grateful for it.

When they reached his hallway, Esposito stopped. "Before we go in, can I give you some advice?"

He nodded.

"Don't hold this in. Whatever macho bullshit is going through your brain right now? It's wrong. There was nothing you could've done today that would've prevented what happened. You got yourself and Beckett rescued, and that's the most any of us could've done. Understand?

He nodded, not really processing the words, just wanting to get inside, but the detective went on.

"I know they hurt you, and I know it's not just physical. Whatever happened to you, talk about it. As soon as you can. To me, to Beckett, iwhoever./i Much better that way. Okay? Take it from one who knows."

He nodded again, afraid that if he spoke, he'd throw up right here on his doorstep.

As they went into the loft, he could hear his mother and Alexis upstairs, laughing and joking just as they always did. Another wave of nausea hit him, and he pulled away from Esposito. He made it to the bathroom just in time.

Alone at last, he heaved and retched into the bowl until his ears sang and he began to black out. Of everything that had been taken from him that day, the thing he resented most was being so casually stripped of the illusion that, after he'd been given a second chance to be with Kate and to let her know what she meant to him, he couldn't protect her even when he was in the same room.

They had come so close to dying today, and for no good reason. He thought of Kate, Alexis, his mother, Esposito and Ryan, his friends, the life he'd worked so hard to build. The violation, the humiliation, the anger and fear, all of it seething inside with nowhere to go. A single violent sob exploded from him, and then another, and another. After that, he clamped down on them, and used the sink to pull himself to his feet. He relieved himself, then rinsed his mouth and drank a little water.

His mother was rapping on the door, demanding answers, demanding reassurance. She meant well, but if he answered one question, it would only open the floodgates. He peeled off his clothes and dumped them on the floor, and turned the shower on full blast. When it was noisy enough, he announced that he needed a shower, hoping the sound would disguise the weakness of his voice.

It wasn't long before he was too weak and dizzy to stand any longer. He hit the lever to turn the water off, and sat down. Just for a minute. He'd be all right in a minute.

He was bathed in sweat. Every muscle in his body seized and trembled. He hugged his knees, set his forehead down on his arms, and concentrated on trying not to faint.

Suddenly there was a touch on his arm. He jumped, and it took him a second to recognize who it was. Lanie. Oh, God. He was inaked/i, but hadn't the strength to tell her to leave, and some small, rational part of him was deeply relieved that she was there. He put his head back down. She just kept talking softly, her hand on his arm solid reassurance of her presence, until he was carried along on the cadence of her voice. He shivered and shook as the nausea built up again.

He raised his head. "Gonna throw up." Oh, God. Right here in front of Lanie.

Lanie's hands forced his legs apart - iJesus!/i - and even the cold metal of the trash can she jammed between them was preferable to throwing up all over himself. Again.

With the temporary relief came embarrassment at what she'd just witnessed. "This day officially could not get any worse."

She touched him on the shoulder. "Sweetie, you're in shock. It's a totally natural reaction to the kind of experience you've just had. Just let it out; you'll feel better."

Why iwas/i she here? Did she have something to tell him about Kate? "Why are you..." God, he was so weak. "Is Beckett..." As he began to run through the possibilities, his stomach seized, and he heaved into the trash can again.

He stayed down, unsure if there was more to come. Lanie's hand pressed against his forehead, and then into the pulse point on his throat.

When the bout subsided, she said, "She's gonna be fine. They're taking good care of her in the hospital. Ryan's with her now. We can all go see her soon."

Then what was she doing here? "So why are you..." The bile rose in his throat, and he had to stop to swallow it down.

"I'm here for iyou/i, Castle. Someone needs to look after you, too."

He shook his head. They should've seen Kate, seen how helpless he'd been. "I'm all right; it was Kate they really..." God, to think of iKate/i, or of himself, and itorture/i in the same breath was beyond something he could process. This time he couldn't keep it down, and made use of the trash can again.

She ran her hand through his wet hair, pressing gently. "Did they hit you on the head?"

It was frightening how quickly you could become helpless. What was the question? "They hit me in the face a few times," he said, dully.

"Yeah, I can see that," she said, sympathetically. "Can you run your tongue over your teeth and feel if any of them are loose, or missing?"

He did. Everything seemed in order there. He shook his head.

"Have you used the bathroom since you came home?"

He stiffened, really not wanting to have this conversation with her. But she was looking at him, wanting an answer. He nodded.

"Any signs of blood?"

"No."

"Okay. That's good. Can you put your legs down just for a second?"

Too late, he moved to cover himself. He was going to have to kill Lanie; she knew too much. Oh good, his sense of humour was intact, if not his dignity.

"Why didn't you let them treat you in the hospital?"

"The doctor was an ass."

Her expression clearly said that she was waiting for a different answer.

He had a vague notion this was some kind of test, but couldn't figure out what she was getting at. "I didn't feel so bad then." He swallowed. "It was only when I got home." It was at least half true.

"You told Javier that the blood and vomit on you were Beckett's."

"It was, mostly," he shuddered. At least, in the beginning it was. "Are you sure she's all right?"

"She will be, and so will you. It's just gonna take a little time. Honey, I'm gonna call an ambulance."

His muscles knotted, and a fresh layer of sweat broke out. His heart was pounding out of his chest. iNot again. Not now,/i just when he needed to show her he wasn't that bad. He angled the trash can expertly, and began to retch unproductively.

"Castle," she said, and he knew that tone. He'd heard it from his mother, from countless women before Beckett, and from Beckett herself. It was the sound of a woman digging her heels in.

"Please," he whispered. "I'm just exhausted." That was it; he couldn't protest any more. Either she accepted it, or he went back to the ER.

She looked at him for a long moment, considering.

"Will you allow me to treat you?"

She would really do that? "Yes."

"And if it turns out that I can't give you the care you need, you'll let me call an ambulance without argument?"

He swallowed. "Yes." Whatever. Anything to stay home.

She sighed. "All right. We'll give it a try. We need to get you out of that tub, but you're going to be very weak."

"I don't think I can stand up." In fact, he was certain of it.

She dug into her pocket. "Javi's down in the car. I'm gonna call him up to help us, okay?"

How many people were going to see him naked today? "No. Don't."

She frowned. "I can't get you out of here by myself. If you don't let me call him, I'm gonna have to call the EMTs."

Okay, she had him. He sighed. "I need a towel."

"We'll get you one," she said, dialling.

He closed his eyes, and what seemed like a couple of seconds later, Esposito was standing in his bathroom. He knew his back was in full view, and had no doubt Esposito was in silent communication with Lanie. His muscles seized at the very thought of moving, of standing naked in front of his friends.

Suddenly Esposito was kneeling beside the tub. There was no judgment in his eyes, only concern. "Okay, brother. Let's do this."

"I... uh. I don't think..."

"You don't have to think. You don't even have to do. Me and Lanie are gonna do it all for you. Now put your arms around my neck. We'll do this nice and easy."

He did as he was told. It wasn't pretty, or easy, or painless, but he did get to his feet, securely wrapped in Esposito's arms. A towel was fixed around his waist, then Lanie took his arm and guided it across her shoulder as well.

The room dipped away from him, and he almost fell, but they didn't let him. "I need... a minute."

"Nuh-uh, we need to keep moving," said Lanie. "Little steps. Not far to go."

Every step ihurt/i, and by the time Esposito lowered him onto the bed, he was bathed in sweat again.

Lanie ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, Castle. I need to go get my bag from the living room. You gonna be okay for a minute?"

He was better off than Kate; of course he would be okay. He nodded, and smiled with grim amusement when she put a trash can beside the bed.

He should lie down.

Where was Kate?

He was hot, but he shivered.

Lanie came back in and sat on the edge of the bed. She shone a penlight in his eyes, and seemed satisfied with what she saw.

"Beckett's in hospital, isn't she."

The question seemed to concern Lanie, and he wondered why.

"Yes, she is. She's being taken care of, don't you worry."

Her hands ran over his head and neck, gently pressing here and there. It didn't hurt.

She moved to the end of the bed and uncovered his legs. She looked over at him. "Somebody did a number on your knee, huh?"

"Kicked," he said, as she probed it gently.

She nodded, and briefly wrapped her hands around his feet. The warmth felt good, but she let go, and replaced the covers, tucking them around his feet.

She sat back down on the bed. "You feeling dizzy?"

He squirmed, impatient, frustrated. He wasn't important; Kate was. She's being taken care of?"

"Yes. Are you feeling dizzy?"

"You're isure/i she's alive?"

She leaned over him until he had no choice but to focus on her. "Yes. Kate is alive. She's being treated at the hospital."

He had to see her himself. Where was his phone? He could call a cab. How would he get past Lanie, though? "You're sure?"

Lanie's fingers pressed gently into his chin, and he looked back up at her. "Castle?"

He was still stronger than Lanie. She couldn't stop him, could she? What if he –

"Castle, listen to me. I think you're a little dehydrated, and it's making you confused. Are you feeling dizzy?"

Yes, but so what? He'd been dizzy for the past couple of hours. "Yeah, I'm dizzy," he said.

"Once we get some fluids into you, you'll start feeling a lot better." She picked up a bag of clear liquid, looked around the room, and then went and got the coatstand. She attached the bag to it. "You're right handed, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Then we'll put the needle in your left."

It was a big needle, and he looked away as she disinfected his hand and slid it in. It was a testament to her skill that she got it in the first time despite the fact that his hand was shaking. The needle's presence was impossible to ignore, and just the idea of it being there for any length of time made him want to pull it out. Lanie pressed something soft over it, and taped it down. When he looked at her again, his heart sank; she was filling another syringe.

Lanie gave him a quick smile. "This is a broad spectrum antibiotic, which is just a precaution."

She dabbed antiseptic on his bicep and jabbed it in. It hurt, but wasn't as bad as the IV. She was rummaging around in her bag again, and this time pulled out a stethoscope. At least that wouldn't hurt. As she pressed the disc to his chest, his mind wandered back to the garage, to whether there had been any point at which he could've prevented their capture, or stopped them hurting Kate.

i"I'm gonna fuck you up, girl."/i

Anger filled every corner of his mind. If only he could've done something. If only –

She was looking at him with concern. "Breath sounds are fine. Your heart's still in panicky mode, but that's okay, I'll have another listen in a little bit."

She prodded around his upper arm. "Any pain there?"

"Not really."

"All right. I'm going to check your blood pressure."

That done to her satisfaction, she put a thermometer in his mouth. "Don't you move; I'm gonna go get you some water."

She left, and he lay there, trying to stay awake, craving the oblivion of sleep, trying to keep the thermometer from falling out of his mouth, wondering what the hell he could have done to change the course of events, and what the hell he was going to do now.

He shifted restlessly, wanting to be out of this bed, wanting to be with her, frustrated beyond reason that he couldn't do either, until the pain in his ribs brought him back into his body.

When Lanie returned, she closed the door and locked it behind her. She hadn't done that before, and he felt his heart beat faster.

She came over to sit by him, and smiled. Her smile was genuine and reassuring, and he began to relax. She put a cool washcloth on his forehead, and it helped. He closed his eyes, indulging in the moment of relief. She took the thermometer out, but he didn't bother to open his eyes.

"Castle, I need you to stay awake for me just a little longer. Think you can do that?"

He nodded. His side was seizing worse than ever, now. Feeling a little pathetic, he said, "Can I have something for the pain?"

Sympathetic but firm, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, not quite yet. As soon as I've finished my exam, you can. On a scale of one to ten, how's the pain in your head?"

He tried to concentrate on that area, on the heat in his temple and jaw. "It throbs where I was hit. Mainly just really foggy."

"When your chair toppled over backwards, do you remember hitting the back of your head?"

"No, I kept my head up so that it wouldn't hit the floor."

"Good job. And on a scale of one to ten, how's the pain in your upper body?"

He didn't need to think about that one so hard. "About six or seven when I don't move, nine or ten when I do."

She nodded. "Do you mind if I turn down the covers a bit so I can take a look at those injuries?"

He shook his head. She folded the covers back to his hips, and began a systematic poke and prod. She was gentle, but at times it was more than he could bear. She apologized and made notes.

Two more injections; tetanus and a local anaesthetic this time, and she cleaned and stitched the ugly slashes on his chest. He kept his eyes closed, trying to picture himself and Kate far away, on a tropical beach. Together. Safe. But the thread tugged at his skin, dragging him back to the present.

"Doing okay there?" she said, smoothing something over the wound.

He nodded.

She laid clean white bandages over his chest. "How did you come by these cuts?" she said, fixing them with surgical tape.

He could see it happening. "When Beckett wouldn't tell them what they wanted to know, they started on me. They thought if she wouldn't talk to save herself, she might talk to save me. I told her not to say anything. But she started making things up. She thought it might give them enough to make them stop. But they didn't believe her. So it was one slash, one punch, one humiliation, for every lie they thought she told." And he knew she was going to torture herself about this for a long time. He needed to talk to her.

i"Did/i she know what it was they wanted her to tell them?"

"No. They wanted to know the location of a key witness in their bosses' trial. They burned her house down last night, and she was taken to a safe house; nobody knows where she is."

"Why did they think Kate would know?"

"They had a picture of her getting coffee with the witness a few weeks ago. She thought that the woman would be more forthcoming in a more relaxed environment." He swallowed. "At first they wanted information, but after a while I think they got that we didn't know anything. Then it just became about torturing cops for the hell of it." His imagination had no difficulty conjuring the image of the man standing in front of him as he was bound to the chair. He cleared his raw throat, and winced.

Lanie looked stricken, but there was a spark of anger in her expression too. He smiled slightly in acknowledgment.

"I'm so sorry you both had to go through that." She took his sticky, mangled wrists and cleaned them, then applied the bandages. "It looks as though they had you tied up with a length of chain, is that right?"

He nodded.

"Kate too?"

"Yeah." He saw the worst of them crouching between Kate's legs, baiting her, fingering and licking her scars. He saw the moments when her mental gears switched from outrage to panic to shut down completely and scream. Or was it he who had screamed? "They tortured her, and I couldn't stop it."

Lanie was looking alarmed.

He dropped his eyes to where she was fastening the bandage on his right wrist. "I tried to free myself so I could help her."

She nodded. "I can see that."

Her voice was gentle, and so was her touch on his shoulder, but he jerked reflexively from the contact.

She stayed with him, though, carefully examining his shoulders, still knotted from being bound behind him for hours, and then bearing his weight when they'd knocked his chair over. "I think you've torn some muscles or ligaments here."

He'd thrown himself forward more times than he could count, trying to break his bonds, and it hadn't done his shoulders or wrists any good. But who cared, when it might have given him a chance to help Kate? "Probably," he said.

She leaned forward a little, and he looked at her.

"Castle," she said. "There was nothing you could have done. Neither of you are to blame. You need to understand that, and so does Kate."

Only he and Kate were there; only they knew what the truth of the situation was, what had or had not been possible, but he couldn't think. He'd resolved to keep her safe, and he'd failed, and now God only knew what kind of guilt trip she'd place on herself for the injuries he'd suffered; how she would inevitably pull away from him even more now, in some sort of misguided effort to keep ihim/i safe.

A touch on his chest, near to one of the oozing burns, brought him back.

"What did this?" Lanie said, gently.

He could see the thing coming towards him, remembered the exact moment when his eyes closed and the pain and the smell hit him. "A soldering iron."

Lanie's jaw tensed, but she said nothing; only smoothed some cooling gel onto the wound. Immediately, the heat began to go out of it, and he sighed in relief.

"Thanks."

She smiled. "Is that better?"

He nodded.

"Good." She sat back, and glanced at the door. The door that she'd locked earlier. What now?

"Castle," she said, in a tone he knew meant something he wasn't going to like was coming. "Did they hurt you below the belt?"

All the tension came back in a rush. This was what he'd been dreading since he'd come to on the garage floor with his pants and underwear wide open.

Lanie spoke very, very gently. "I'd like to run a rape kit. Will you let me do that?"

His heart kicked into high gear, and sweat broke out on his face, subverting any attempt to brush off her concerns. He knew Lanie was noting each telltale response, and that made it worse. "They didn't..." Did they? He tried to remember, but couldn't. Had they stopped at humiliation, or had something happened that was so traumatic, he was simply blocking it?

"Javi said that when they found you, your privates were exposed."

He frowned and shook his head. "They... ah..." He stopped. What ihad/i they done? A little jolt of fear made his stomach contract. He swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise. "They did some things that were designed to humiliate me in front of Kate, but..."

She nodded. "Were you conscious the whole time?"

"Uh... no... I think I was out once or twice." He didn't know how many times.

"How about Kate? Was she conscious the whole time?"

"No. One of them opened her shirt. He was going to grope her, but then he saw her scar, and how freaked out she got when he started talking about it." If he saw that man again, he would beat the ishit/i out of him, he would ikill/i him for causing Kate that kind of suffering. "He stuck his dirty finger in the middle of it and just... iplayed/i with it while he talked..." And the things he'd isaid./i

"Oh, my God. My poor girl."

Looking at Lanie's expression, he was glad Kate had her on her side. "Kate lost it pretty quickly then, and so did I. That's when things really started getting bad."

She nodded. "So both of you were unconscious for a while, intermittently."

"Yeah."

She indicated his lower body. "Are you in any pain down here?"

He shook his head, not trusting his voice, or even his own mind.

"Rick," she said, gently. "Kate's not awake to ask, and if something happened to you, we need all the evidence we can possibly get to prosecute those..." she hesitated. "People. If you weren't assaulted, this will be your proof, and you can set your mind at ease. If you were, it will be a powerful weapon in bringing those people to justice."

He felt sick. And angry. He wouldn't be here, in this position, feeling violated and terrified by something that might never even have happened, were it not for those men. "They hit me there," he offered, not ready to commit to what she was proposing.

She nodded, not rushing him.

"I've already showered," he said. It sounded feeble, even to him.

"Even so. But no one's going to force you. This is your decision. But it can't wait. I just don't want you to look back and wish you'd done it when you had the chance."

He covered his face with his hands. She was right. But the thought of having his fears confirmed was too much. How would he ever get over that? And even if nothing had happened, Lanie would still be doing this incredibly embarrassing procedure on him, and what would that do to their relationship?

But if there was one thing he knew, it was the power of his imagination, and the havoc it could wreak. The thought of turning the events of this day over and over in his mind ad infinitum, and never being sure of the answer, would be worst of all. He wondered how Kate was doing, if she was having the same mental debate.

"Do you think they'll be doing this to Kate?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm pretty sure they will. Kate will need that reassurance."

Well, then. If Kate could do it, so could he. "All right," he said, quietly.

"Thank you. You made the right decision." She pulled on a pair of gloves, and laid out an array of equipment. "First, I need to take a few hairs off your head," she said, snipping. She smiled. "Don't worry, you've got plenty. No one will notice." She put the hairs into a specimen jar, and used a little tool to scrape under his fingernails. That went into a container too, and then she brought out another big needle, and two vials.

"Sorry," she said. "I need to take two separate blood samples." She wrapped some rubber tubing around his arm, and made short work of the procedure. She taped a cotton ball over the site, and cleared that equipment away.

The next thing he knew, he was looking at a tube of lubricant and a speculum. He cringed, and was exasperated to feel sweat break out on his face again. It wasn't too late to back out.

"Honey, I promise this won't hurt. It'll be a little uncomfortable, but it won't hurt."

"It's not that." It was so many other, more frightening things.

"We could go to the hospital if you'd rather someone other than me did this part of the exam."

No way in hell was he going back there to have some supercilious doctor shove something up his ass. No one was going to care more about him, or do this better, than Lanie. But the whole thing was so bizarre and awful, and how would they get past this? How could he ever face her again? But, no one would do this with more care than her. He knew that.

He shook his head. "You're my friend." He bucked up his courage. "You'll still be my friend after this, won't you? It won't change anything?" He couldn't stand for this day to rob him of anything else. His heart was pounding, and his ears began to ring.

And then he saw that Lanie's eyes were brimming, and realized that she had her own concerns, and she really, truly, did care about him. Not just Kate, but him too. He'd graduated from being 'the threat to her friend' to being a friend in his own right.

"It won't change anything, Rick, except it'll be me rather than Kate who gets to see how brave you are."

Thank God for Lanie. No one else could've got him to do this, and he knew it needed to be done. He cleared his throat. "Hey, don't go all soft on me."

She smiled and muttered a gentle "Shut up." She pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. "I'm gonna push the covers down, okay?"

With a slight nod, he moved to turn onto his uninjured side, but her hand on his hip stopped him.

"It's okay, you can stay on your back for a minute."

Oh.

His eyes followed every movement of her hands as she picked up a long swab and dipped it in saline.

"When I said this day couldn't get any worse?" he said, quietly, "I was wrong."

Lanie was as quick as she could be, and totally professional, though this had to be difficult for her, too. He still wanted the earth to swallow him, but somehow she managed to make the incredibly embarrassing procedures as tolerable as possible, diverting him with a story about her brother that actually made him laugh. He kept his arm across his face as he heard her putting the instruments away. He wondered who was looking after Kate. She wouldn't be getting the loving care from them that he was getting from Lanie. It wasn't fair.

"You'll be glad to know I didn't see any signs of sexual assault, but we'll get confirmation from the lab in a few days."

Thank God. He became aware of his mother's shrill tones in the living room. Any second now, she was going to burst in here. He tried to adjust the covers, but Lanie stopped him.

"Just one more thing to do here."

"Don't let her in here. Or Alexis. Not tonight." iThey/i were not going to see him naked. That was one thing he could control.

"No, honey. The door's locked, anyway, and Javi's out there with your mom."

"Good luck," he muttered.

She gently took his free hand. "We're gonna get those guys, and right now, I'm gonna give you something for the pain. It should also help you to relax a little and get some sleep."

Something cool and wet touched him, and then what felt like another large-bore needle sank into his backside. He gritted his teeth and held his breath.

"Sorry," she said, pressing a cotton ball to him. She pulled the covers up over his hip and went to work on the mess they'd made of his back. He lay quiet, recovering from the stress of the internal exam, cherishing her observation that he appeared to be untouched back there, relieved she was only looking at his back now.

Suddenly he realized that the pain was lifting fast. He closed his eyes, sighed in relief, and knew no more.

i"Gonna show you what happens to people don't do what I say!"/i

i"Kate!"/i

He hit the floor.

i"Castle, no!"/i

iThey were going to die. He got to his feet and tackled the biggest one./i

He was woken by his own pounding heart and desperate gasp for breath that cause a tearing pain in his ribs.

He was in his room.

Where was Kate? He felt his stress level rise.

And fall. She was in hospital.

If she felt anything like this, he should be with her.

Still tangled in the dream and groggy from something else – drugs? – he eased his legs over the side of the bed, freezing when the pain from his ribs hit, holding his breath, riding it out. He gripped the edge of the mattress, and felt a sharp pain in the back of his hand. Angry, he took hold of the IV needle and pulled. Blood and clear liquid ran down his hand.

Hanging onto the furniture, he shuffled to the closet and pulled on his robe. He opened the door just as the nausea hit, and felt the pricking of the now-familiar sheen of sweat that preceded the sickness. He leaned in the doorway. He needed to get dressed. He was going to faint. Shit.

Suddenly, Lanie and Esposito were there.

"Castle, get back in bed iright now/i", she said.

Everything was growing dim. "I need to be with Kate," he explained, sliding down in the doorway. Chills ran up his neck and over his head. His hands were shaking. His stomach heaved just as the trash can was thrust in front of him. He was too weak to empty his stomach very violently, so coughed and sputtered into the can for a while.

Esposito was crouching in front of him. He looked concerned, but not scared, so he wasn't scared either. "I need to go," he whispered.

Esposito smiled slightly. "If you think you can get past me, go ahead and take a shot, my man."

He moved so that he could lean back against the wall, twisting a little so as not to put pressure on his ribs. Lanie was preparing another syringe. iNot another one./i She came over to kneel beside him. She glanced at Esposito, who nodded back at her and put a hand gently on his shoulder. It wasn't restraint, but it was ready to be. Did they really think he was that far gone? Was he?

She opened his robe to expose his defenceless right arm. He closed his eyes, and felt the needle go in.

"There. You'll feel better in a minute," she said.

"I don't want to sleep," he said.

"It's not for sleep, it's to help stop you throwing up," she explained.

He nodded. That was okay, then. He just wanted to sleep.

No.

Kate.

"I really need to go," he said, helplessly. They nodded sympathetically, but didn't move to help him achieve this.

Esposito stood up and moved around behind him. "Only place you're goin' is back to bed, brother."

The detective's arms slid under his, and pulled him strongly to his feet. Shit, that hurt. But now that he was up, he could get to his clothes. He started for the pile on the chair, but Esposito's hold shifted and locked. He couldn't move.

He tried to pull free, dismayed that Esposito could restrain him so easily, that he already had him where he wanted him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Listen, Castle," the detective said, not unkindly. "Keep this up, you're gonna make your injuries worse, and then it's gonna be even longer before you get to see Beckett. Lanie's doing her best to get you on your feet as fast as possible, so you need to make her job a little easier, okay?"

He really was being a pain in the ass, after all they'd done for him. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm grateful to you both." As much as he resented them keeping him here. It was irrational, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

Lanie touched his hair lightly. "Happy to do it."

Esposito gave him a mock frown. "That's more like it." He picked up the trash can and took it out. "Lanie, I'm gonna clean up out here."

She smiled at him. "Thanks."

He watched their exchange, and couldn't help noticing that it appeared their relationship wasn't over after all. He shifted uncomfortably as his ribs protested the recent strain.

Lanie crouched down to his eye level, and pressed a blissfully cool washcloth to his face. "We all know that Kate would inot/i thank you for running around the city in the middle of the night in the condition you're in." She smiled. "And she'd ikill/i me and Javi for letting you. Believe me, as soon as she's awake, she's gonna want to talk to you every bit as badly as you wanna talk to her."

Did she really think so? Did she know something about Kate that he didn't? Did Kate talk to her about him? Probably. But then, it was iKate/i they were talking about, so... "We've, ah, we've had some problems lately. But I'm the only one who knows what she's been through. I should be there if she's scared, or if she wants to talk."

Lanie nodded sympathetically. "I understand, and you will be, but I'm sorry; it's not happening tonight."

Oh, really? He would do as he damn well pleased. If he could get to his feet –

Lanie's expression hardened. "Maybe it's not such a bad idea. If we take you to the hospital, I can make idamn/i sure those doctors take a good look at you this time, and I promise you, they're not going to let you go running off after Kate, either." She met his challenging stare with one of her own. "Still want to go?"

The IV needle throbbed in the back of his right hand, fixed in place with gauze and tape just like the one in his left had been. He hated it. From past experience, he knew it would leave him with a big bruise that would ache as he typed.

"Open up," said Lanie, and the thermometer went into his mouth. She took out her stethoscope, opened his robe, and pressed the cool disc to his chest. He closed his eyes and let her listen.

She put the stethoscope away. She peeled back the bandages on his chest and stomach. He winced as it took a good number of hairs with it.

"Sorry," she said. "I need to check you haven't pulled any stitches."

"No less manly," quipped Esposito, from the doorway.

"Still got more than you," he said.

"Don't talk when I'm taking your temperature," said Lanie.

Esposito grinned. "She told iyou."/i

Lanie cleaned and rebandaged the cuts, and checked his pupils again. She looked exhausted. She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Get some sleep," he mumbled around the thermometer. "Guest room's upstairs."

She raised an eyebrow. "The next time we leave you alone, I'm having Javier cuff you to this bed."

He didn't have to see Esposito to know he was smirking.

She took the thermometer out of his mouth, and read it.

"He feverish?" said Esposito.

"Nope." She glanced down at him and very quietly, so that only he could hear, said, "Just in love."

"That's worse than anything," he muttered.

She smiled. "I hear that."

From a deep, dreamless sleep, he heard her voice.

"Kate?" He felt so out of it. Was she there?

Lanie walked over to the bed, and looked down at him as she talked on the phone. "Yeah, well, I'm still hoping to cut a deal." She looked him in the eyes. "If he'll let me bring him in for a CT scan and an MRI, I'll bring him right over to you afterwards."

"Deal," he heard Kate say.

He rolled his eyes, and held out his hand for the phone. No one would be making deals on his behalf. His gut contracted, remembering the deal she'd tried to cut with their captors, yesterday.

She looked like hell.

"You look like hell," she said, fondly. "How are you?"

"So much better for seeing you." It was true. Everything else had simply dropped away, the moment he saw her face. "How are you?"

"Getting there. Are you in a lot of pain?"

"No. Lanie gave me something that was... wow."

She nodded, and he recognized the look.

"Want to talk about it, whatever it is?"

She nodded. "When you come." She frowned into the screen, as though not getting enough information. "I really want to talk to you, Rick."

"Am I in trouble?"

She smiled. "No."

His stomach did a little flip-flop, but there was no use questioning her now. He cocked an eyebrow. "You been giving the doctors a hard time?"

She smiled. "I would have, if they hadn't knocked me out. I just wanted to know you were being taken care of. The paramedics told me they would be admitting you too. I knew you were badly hurt, but then I heard on the grapevine that you..." She sounded incredulous, "refused treatment and then ithreatened/i one of them?"

"He was an ass." He was so tired. He'd just close his eyes for a second.

i"Rick?"/i

He opened his eyes. "And Lanie did a much better job than he could ever have done."

"Yes. I'm going to have a talk with Lanie."

He bet she was.

"Rick?"

"Mmm."

"Are you asleep?"

"No, I'm talking to you."

She smiled. "Barely. I'll tell you what. You go to sleep, but leave the phone on?"

"What for?"

"I just need to... see you."

He got it. And he really couldn't stay awake any longer. "Okay. But you should sleep too."

"I will," she promised. "Rick, I..."

"Mmm." He was almost out.

"I'll talk to you later."

End.


End file.
